


oh baby girl (you know we're gonna be legends)

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Ava's office, Dirty Talk, F/F, Fade to Black, Flirting, Fluff, Lingerie, Seduction, based on Those two insta photos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: Ava sighs, stops fighting the fingers that Sara is trying to weave between her own. Sara smiles, and settles her chin on Ava’s shoulder, so that she can speak directly into her ear. “Come on, Ava. Loosen up. Let's go home.” Her mouth moves downwards, getting at Ava’s neck, pressing kisses to the smooth skin there.With her free hand, she pulls the hair tie easily out of Ava’s hair, smoothing it down as it falls down her back, tucking it over Ava’s other shoulder.or: avalance office seduction





	oh baby girl (you know we're gonna be legends)

**Author's Note:**

> the M is for some pretty explicit dirty talk and Almost sex, but there is no actual sex. i landed on M and not T after a series of ultimately very unhelpful twitter polls (shoutout to my followers)
> 
> said insta photos are [these](https://twitter.com/_avasharpe/status/1038318891271966720) ones
> 
> title is from young god by halsey
> 
> this is largely unedited and mostly a rush job but have a little short something to tide you over until i start posting my WIP

Ava doesn't even register Sara as she steps into her doorway, too engrossed in her work. Sara lingers for a second, leaning against the frame, watching her. The sleeves of her sweater are pushed up to her elbow. There's ink smudged slightly on her skin, and a look of concentration on her face. Her hair is up in a hasty bun, scraped messily off her face.

After a couple of seconds, Ava looks up, apparently noticing Sara for the first time, a look of confusion on her face. “I told you not to bother coming out here,” she says.

Sara crosses her arms. “That was when you said you were just going to go into the office for an hour.”

“How long have I been?” Ava asks, frowning.

“Four hours.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Sara says, echoing Ava's words back to her, crossing the floor in a couple of steps. Ava's new office is slightly smaller than her previous one, but it's got less glass. It's more private. It’s better. “It's a Saturday. It's your day off. You don't need to be here.”

“I _do,”_ Ava insists. “I've got all this paperwork and there's a million things to do and—”

She stops as Sara rounds the desk, coming up behind her, her hands on Ava’s shoulders. “Get Gary to do it. Or,” Sara says, pausing to laugh lightly, “or Nate. He actually does like that kinda stuff. They can do it.”

Sara slides her hands down Ava’s arms, pushing her sleeves down, plucking the pen out of Ava’s fingers when she reaches Ava’s hands. She goes to lay it on the table, but Ava’s hand moves towards it, so she snatches it away, hiding it in one of her pockets.

Ava sighs, stops fighting the fingers that Sara is trying to weave between her own. Sara smiles, and settles her chin on Ava’s shoulder, so that she can speak directly into her ear. “Come on, Ava. Loosen up. Let's go home.” Her mouth moves downwards, getting at Ava’s neck, pressing kisses to the smooth skin there.

With her free hand, she pulls the hair tie easily out of Ava’s hair, smoothing it down as it falls down her back, tucking it over Ava’s other shoulder.

“Sara.” Ava carefully pulls away, reaching into her desk for another pen. “I can't.”

“Yeah,” Sara says, pressing her lips together. “I thought you might say that. I came prepared.” She hadn’t really expected Ava to come home.

“Oh?” Ava spins in her chair, arms crossed. Her eyebrow is raised. “How exactly did you pre— Wait. What are you wearing?” The arch expression is replaced with a confused frown, as she registers Sara’s outfit for the first time.

“Trench coat,” Sara says, purposefully unhelpful.

“Yeah, I can see that. But why?” Ava is still frowning. Her eyes travel slowly down Sara’s body. “And… tights? And heels? Are you going somewhere? Are _we_ going somewhere? Did I forget something?”

There's sudden worry on her face, and Sara hastens to get rid of it. “No. Nothing like that, baby. You're fine. I'm not… dressed to go out.” She pushes some documents aside, pushes up on her hands slightly to get herself onto the desk, then leans down, her elbows on her knees, so their faces are closer. “I'm dressed to stay in.”

For a second longer, the confusion lingers on Ava’s face, and then her gaze strays past Sara to the door, the door that Ava usually keeps open.

The door that Sara had closed behind her when she entered.

Ava's eyebrows raise, her mouth falling open slightly. “Sara…” she says, and her tone is a warning. “I don't have time for anything. And I couldn't, anyway.”

“We did at your old office,” Sara says, pointing out the obvious.

“That was— different.”

“How?”

“I wasn't director yet. And we didn't have a board yet. Hardly anyone over my head. Now I do. It's too risky.”

“I locked the door,” Sara says. “Hardly anyone’s in the office. No-one will know.”

Ava shakes her head. “I can't. Move.”

“No.” Sara stays resolutely where she is, kicking her feet up to rest them lightly on Ava’s legs. She presses down slightly with the heels, a hiss escaping from Ava’s mouth.

“Sara.” Ava isn't budging either, so Sara tries another tactic, slipping off the desk, and into Ava’s lap. Ava doesn’t push her away, and that has to be a good sign.

“You know,” she says, throwing her arms over Ava’s shoulders, “Gideon can make anything we want her to. Brand new every time. So you never know what to expect.”

“I— I know what to expect,” Ava says, but her voice sounds dry, and her eyes are flicking to the neckline of the trench coat, the deep V not revealing anything.

“What?”

Ava shrugs, obviously trying to look casual. “Lingerie. I've seen you in lingerie before. It's nothing”—Sara shifts in her lap, pressing closer, and Ava groans—”it's nothing I haven't seen before.”

Sara shakes her head, leaning closer, kissing her. “You haven't seen this before. Or at least, not in real life.” At that, Ava raises her eyebrows, and Sara can see genuine interest in her eyes. She reaches down, undoes the catches on her shoes, letting them fall to the floor, all the while not taking her eyes off of Ava. “Come on, baby.”

She finds Ava's fingers with her own, leading them to the tie of her coat. Ava pulls at it, obediently, as if in a trance. The front falls open. Sara looks down. There's only a sliver of clothing on display in between the now open lapels—a strip of black lace running down her front. It's hardly anything, but it's enough to make Ava's eyes darken. She looks up into Sara’s, and Sara just smirks, then shrugs the coat off her shoulders.

The fabric falls away, and Ava actually swears.

“What do you think?” Sara asks, lifting up slightly so that the coat can fall fully to the floor. “I got Gideon to make a lacier version of the old outfit. You like it?”

Ava's eyes roam over Sara’s body. Her voice is slightly strangled when she speaks. “Did the old version have… this much skin on show? I don't feel like I remember… that… from the photos.” Her fingers trace over the front of the corset, over the thin lace, and Sara can feel it.

She shrugs. “Not quite this much. I might have gotten her to lower the neckline slightly.”

“Slightly?” Ava murmurs. Her fingers move higher, over the neckline, and Sara shivers.

Sara tips her head in acknowledgment. “Okay. Quite a bit.”

“Yeah. Thought so.”

Sara leans back, and Ava’s hands automatically go to her waist, keeping her in place. “So you like it? I should keep it?”

“Yeah, I…” and then Ava's eyes trail lower, finally going below Sara’s waist, to where her legs bracket Ava’s own. “You're trying to kill me,” she says, matter of fact, trying to pretend that she’s cool about it all, but there’s a hint of pink rising up from the collar of her sweater that betrays her feelings.

“What?” Sara asks, her face innocent.

Ava just shakes her head, that same disbelieving expression on her face that she gets half the time she's around Sara, like she’s still not used to her. “Suspenders? Really?”

Sara shrugs again, trying to keep her face straight. “Gotta keep those stockings up, haven't I?”

“You could've just… worn tights,” Ava says, exasperated, rolling her eyes—but her hands go to the clips at the same time, undoing them with ease.

“Where's the fun in that?” Sara leans in, kisses Ava’s jaw, her neck. “I like messing with you. But,” she looks down at where Ava’s fingers are rolling back the edge of the stockings, “in any case, you don't seem to be having any problems with them, though,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

Ava blushes, her fingers pausing, as if she'd been moving them without thinking. “My ex liked stockings…” she says, her voice quiet. “I got used to them.”

Her fingers splay over Sara’s thighs, moving almost absentmindedly.

She looks up at Sara, and there's suddenly worry in her face again, obviously at the mention of her ex. Sara leans down, kisses her lightly. “So you're like, a stocking pro?”

A slow smile spreads on Ava’s face. “Yeah. Essentially.”

“That's hot.”

Pink tinges her cheeks again, and she looks down. Sara follows her gaze, is aware of how distinctly differently they're dressed, Ava still entirely wrapped up, Sara practically naked in lingerie that's mostly see through. She's still ridiculously hot. Just the way she's looking at Sara is everything, is making heat flare low in her belly.

“It's not—”

“You're so hot, Ava,” Sara says, pressing closer, pressing up against her. “Everything you do is hot. Come on, don't leave me hanging. I _need_ you.”

“You don't—”

“I _need_ you,” Sara repeats, pressing her lips together, widening her eyes.

Ava sighs, trying to turn away, but Sara's too close, and she drags Ava’s face back, kissing her, her other hand reaching underneath Ava’s sweater, trailing her fingers over Ava’s stomach. She's relaxing underneath Sara’s touch, muscles unclenching, so close to giving in that Sara can taste it.

“I wanna feel you inside me, baby,” she whispers, and Ava groans, kisses Sara again, her lips hard, needy. She's given in. That much is obvious, even more so when she moves her hands higher, teasing at the edges of Sara’s underwear, thumbs pressing underneath slightly.

“You’re terrible,” Ava says, but she’s not trying to fight it anymore. Her words are weak, ineffectual, hardly more than an attempt at a scold.

“I'm getting what I want though, aren't I?” Sara says, laughing.

“Who said that?” Ava asks, her turn to feign innocence. But her hands are still creeping higher, eventually high enough to hook underneath the panties, start to drag them down Sara’s hips.

“I think your hands did,” Sara says, trying to keep her voice steady even as Ava's fingers stray dangerously low.

“What was that?”

“I said, I think—fuck—” Sara cuts off as Ava traces one finger too low to maintain the pretence that she's unaffected. Ava smiles. She likes that. When she can finally break Sara down until she loses the ability to stay cool. “I think your hands said that.”

“They did?” Ava mocks surprise, like she doesn’t know what her own hands are doing, like she’s not thinking at all. If Sara didn’t know better, she’d think Ava really isn’t thinking about it. But she _does_ know her, and she knows that every fibre of Ava’s being is concentrated on this, on what she’s doing and how it’s making Sara feel. She’s attentive to every detail, even when she’s trying to pretend she’s not.

“God, fuck, Ava, stop teasing.”

Ava pulls Sara’s face down, kissing her again. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“The paperwork can wait,” Ava says.

“Yeah?”

Ava nods. “Mhmm.”

“I broke you?” Sara asks, grinning.

“Yeah. You broke me.”

“I like breaking you,” Sara says, leaning in close, murmuring the words against Ava’s lips, her hands cupping Ava’s face. There are pink spots all over her skin. Her lips are kiss swollen. Sara knows she has to look the same. Completely ruined by nothing more than teasing. They both break each other, over and over again, until being loved feels normal.

“Romantic,” Ava says, her voice dry, but she’s smiling, because, as she pulls away, she moves the hand that still lingers underneath Sara’s underwear, eliciting another gasp from Sara’s mouth. “You’re so romantic.”

“You know I love you, right?” It’s slightly desperate, and Sara knows Ava can hear it, because her pupils get even larger.

Ava nods, kisses her hard, and when she pulls back, she swipes a tongue over her lip, the ultimate tell. Sara raises an eyebrow, moves Ava’s hands to the laces on her back. Ava starts pulling at them the second she can feel them, careful fingers scrabbling against the ties. “So. You a corset pro as well?” Sara asks, a little bit of a challenge.

“Let’s find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> directoravasharpe.tumblr.com /@_avasharpe


End file.
